


Until Death Do I Part

by orphan_account



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Heartbreak, Hopeless Romance, Romance, Stalking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:27:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If both people feel the same way, it's love.If one of them does not, then it's insanity.





	

It had been one of _those_ nights. In the crevice. Frank wouldn't shut up again, something about holding rat races under the bridge. At another time, this might've piqued Charlie's interest. After all, there were a great many rats in Paddy's Pub, and using them for money might be better than killing them outright...

Charlie screamed his way out of the crevice, across his tiny, filthier than usual apartment, into his green jacket and out the door. He turned around, opened the door, screamed at Frank some more, then slammed it shut.

Little twigs of origami, the characters in Charlie Kelly's mind, snapped and burned as so much kindling as he ranted and mumbled to himself in the cold Philadelphia night. Words, what were words anyway? Just silly putty that people played with using their mouths. Never mind that he couldn't read or write; words meant nothing. It was his feelings that mattered. Tonight, with no warning, no buildup, no specific trigger, his feelings boiled over in their Charlie Kelly cauldron. His brisk walk hastened as his anger, his tortured loneliness bubbled up into a frenzy. Amidst the turmoil, the insanity churning within, an epiphany of sorts began to crystallize: _Dennis, Dee, Mac... always putting me down. Always with the Charlie work. Always shitting on the beautiful thing the waitress and I have. They don't understand what REAL love is, those fucking little bitches!_

Past the coffee shop, he was almost jogging now, as much as his beer soaked, out of shape body would let him. "That's it Charlie," he said aloud to himself, "they don't know what real love is. How could they?  They don't even know what bird law is, for fuck's sake!"

_Nah, it's okay Charlie, you're cool, you're cool man, it's okay, you've only spent the last fucking decade of your life doing all the Charlie work, all the Charlie work, why, because you're a nice guy, because you are okay with doing shit that makes other people happy. When was the last time any of those sniveling shits did something for someone else, huh? They're all fucked! You're the one who's better, Charlie, because you have love, you have the Waitress, you have something beautiful and pure that THEY CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND!!!_

He stopped, clenching his fists, raising them in the air dramatically the way he'd always seen people do in movies. As he was about to let loose with a scream into the night air, his eyes boggled as he realized he'd fallen to his knees exactly in front of the Waitress's apartment complex. The boiling rage inside turned in on itself, transforming, his brain giving way, as if every delusion he convinced himself of as real throughout his life was but water, and the dam holding it all back finally crumbled. He collapsed onto his face, pounding the freezing pavement with his fists. He sobbed, he wept, his tears and the snot streaming from his nose pouring out onto the filthy sidewalk.

The image, the perception of Charlie Kelly, the one he wore everyday into Paddy's Pub, the one he went to bed with every night alongside Frank, it melted, it vanished into that pool of tears. His broken heart emptied itself as his deluded mind somehow, for the first time, grasped just how fucked up he'd let his life become. He only wanted to be loved, to be accepted. He didn't eat spiders and huff glue and dig through garbage since grade school because he wanted to, truly. He needed the acceptance, the belonging, even the sliver of a feeling that he belonged on this world, that we wasn't meant to have been a tiny piece of aborted human trash cut from his mother's womb.

He only wanted to give that same feeling to the Waitress. That no matter how much she shat on him, no matter how many horrible things she said or did to him, not matter how many restraining orders she'd place, that he'd always be there for her, that he could prove to one beautiful person that Charlie Kelly mattered, he belonged, that he could give someone the acceptance and love he'd never attained in his miserable, shitty, broken life spent with some of the most fucked up narcissists in all of Philadelphia. In the world, for all he knew or cared. It was the only beauty in the world to him, her and his love for her. It was beautiful, it was pure, it was the only thing true in a life of lies and pain and total despair. All the shit the gang did, all the things he'd rationalized to himself, every delusion he'd allowed himself to live was nothing but a flimsy band-aid on the pain in his heart, the pain and the love that eternally danced with each other like yin and yang.

That broken wreck that was the sad, pitiful, true Charlie Kelly wept himself dry of tears, smashed his hands until they bled, he ranted and raved until his voice was raw, dry and broken. That soiled, green-jacketed husk, by some unconscious force, found itself slumped against the door of Paddy's Pub once the morning came. He woke up in the worst of agonies, worse than any hangover or any withdrawal, when he saw the sun and knew that today was another day in his fucked life. His eyes burned as he saw Dennis walking up, his nose sneering down at Charlie before the bastard even opened his mouth.

"You look like shit," Dennis said, grinning as he went to open the door.

"You're... shit..." Charlie stammered out.

"Save that for the mirror, Charlie. We got a lot of work to do today, buddy, and by we I of course mean you. A customer had some rather, shall we say, gross and perverse things to leave behind in our bathroom last night." He held the door open. "Come on, chop chop, those toilets won't clean themselves."

  _I fucking hate you, Dennis. I hate all of you. You'll never know what it's like to love, you cocksmoking bastard. What it's like to give your heart to someone, even if they run away with it and never come back.  
_

_It's okay Charlie. Someday you'll make them all see. They'll pay._

 


End file.
